


The Sun's Daughter

by unmeiiii



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Alternate Reality, F/M, Gen, a twist in fate and time, a twist in the events of DA:I, alternate route for solas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 06:25:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12647952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unmeiiii/pseuds/unmeiiii
Summary: "Ereli Lavellan was a young woman that some of the other clan elves would say ‘was a wanderer with a bright-eyed, child-like curious streak that often causes her trouble.’ With hair as white as snow contrasting with her tan skin that hailed from the southern lands, she definitely stood out. Some say it’s her unknown background that makes Ereli so curious and unique; always searching for answers to questions that her kin hadn’t thought to ask."





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fellow readers, skulkers of the internet! This fic has been in planning for about a... month now? I've been coming up with ideas, scrapping them, coming up with more, bladeeblah, rinse and repeat. Point is, a lot of thought went into this story, years after the game has been released. I do hope that you enjoy this little version of the events in DA:I. I'm getting back into the writing game, using NanoWriMo as clutch to motivate myself. Nevertheless, enjoy the read! I look forward to hearing from you.  
> \- Destiny

## Prologue

**9:40 Dragon**

 

He had awaken. 

Abruptly, so it seemed. It took a moment for his tired eyes to start to process what was happening. He felt the earth below shake violently, and pieces of the stone ceiling were falling all around his person. Still in a heavy fog, he focused on the sounds coming from up above.

They were the sounds of battle, he deduced after a few moments. Metal clashing, the crackle of magic and the screaming of pain. It was muffled but from the proximity of the sounds, he could tell it was quite close. The explosions of attacks from above were causing his sanctuary to crumble all around him, which in turn disrupted his sleep. 

His sanctuary was deep within a mountainous region in the western parts of the Free Marches: a small hovel that he handcrafted inside a mountain before entering the uthenera, or the eternal sleep. He made sure that it was deep enough to stay hidden within centuries of life as he slept; but it seemed now that that was no longer so.

He sat up quite sluggishly, the weight of thousands of years of sleep pulling at him. Each muscle in his upper body was straining to keep himself upright. The man fell back towards the floor. With all of his might, he managed to sit himself up, using the rocky wall behind him as support. 

_Exactly how long have I been asleep?_ He wondered as he stared into the darkness in silence, letting his muscles relax. His time in the Fade could not have been tracked, as time was not a concept in that realm. As he slept, however, the visions reflected in the Fade showed just how much things changed if not how long. He knew the world above was vastly different, but to what extent he did not know. 

His limbs burned as he shifted and stumbled to his feet, quite discombobulated. It was painful to even stand at that moment, for his muscles were weak from millenia of inactivity. It was pitch black, save for a little hole of light that peeked through the side of the cave. The elf conjured a small ball of fire in his palm to illuminate the dark, dank hovel, and found the small collection of personal possessions that he had brought with him before he slept. Among his things were a staff adorned with a pearl-like, iridescent sphere, a bag of a few texts, and a journal. However, one thing he did not recognize sat beside his cot: a small chest with a veilfire rune inscribed into the top. 

He cast the fire to a torch that was perched near the wall in which he stood, illuminating the area more radiantly.

With more effort than he realized, he picked up the chest and rested it atop of a rock formation jutting out from one of the walls. His fingertips grazed the glowing blue of the symbol on the rune, and was surprised to find that it was his own magic that pulsed from it. How was that possible? He didn’t recall bringing a chest with him to this refuge, much less inscribing a veilfire rune into it.

Conjuring veilfire was going to take more energy from him in this state, but his curiosity was peaked enough to risk him being vulnerable. His veins burned as the flame hovering above his palm transitioned into an ethereal blue, and hummed softly. Before he could bring the flame to the rune, the earth below and around him shook from another explosion from the battle. It was a reminder that he needed to clear the area fast. 

He brought the blue flame to the rune again, and it sung more loudly this time. With a soft, final note of the flame, the rune’s message was revealed to him. 

Images of several events were projected in his mind. A wretched, marred creature holding what, to his shock, seemed to be _his_ Orb and a dragon at his side. This image evoked feelings of panic and desperation into the man, partnered with his shock. The next image was that of an unrecognizable woman with the vallaslin of Elgar’nan etched into her face, an expression of contempt crossing her features. Her face couldn’t really be made out, only her markings. The emotions associated with the woman were that of heartbreak, betrayal, and warmth. The next and final image was even more chilling: a battle between he and the world, in which he lost. Or so he presumed. The rune did not show more; it only elicited a feeling of regret towards the end, and then dimmed. 

Solas stood for a moment, contemplating what he just saw and felt. This rune was… nauseating. Every feeling, every image in it was inscribed with his magic. And it was of events that he doesn’t recall happening at all. It was almost as if the rune served as a warning somehow. How did so many things go wrong? He didn’t recognize the creature nor the woman, and the images themselves weren’t very distinct either. He knew there was some other form of magic at play in this, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. 

_And what of Mythal? _Solas thought grimly, as he reflected on the events. So many conflicting images into one message and he wasn’t certain what meaning he could decipher from it. How could the latter event happen without his dear friend in sight?__

____

____

Suddenly, a unlatching noise sounded from the chest itself. The chest opened and once he laid eyes on the object within, his heart fell. 

“No…” 

The chest fell to the ground, and what seemed to be a sphere from the vision rolled out into charred, palm-sized bits. He recognized the spiral pattern that was indicative of his foci. It was… his Orb. Broken. In pieces. He knelt and touched each piece, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Solas was overcome with many emotions, but the one that was the most overbearing of them all was his confusion. He didn’t understand. Whatever he theorized, it was magically impossible. Yet it wasn’t.

While he was still trying to gather his bearings, the earth started to crumble again from the battle above. Conjuring veilfire was more than he could have handled, and he had to lean against the wall for support, his muscles too weak to hold him up from the quaking. If he wanted to get any answers, he had to at least make it out of the mountains alive.


	2. Opportunity

## Chapter One

“Release the arrow.” 

”…I can’t.”

Her arm was starting to tire from the elongated pull of the bow, and her hand supporting the arrowhead was starting to tremble. All she could feel was the harsh pounding of her heart in her chest, and Tomriel’s hands on her shoulders. Her eyes bore into the animal’s steel gray ones from across the way.

“I’m guiding you, okay? Look,” he stood closer and placed his hand over her trembling one, “Vir assan, lethallin. Way of the arrow.” 

Ereli Lavellan side-eyed her friend before focusing her gaze on the animal again. She hasn’t felt this nervous since she got caught reading the shem’s history texts by Deshanna. But this time it was the act of killing an unknowing animal, by her hand. The way its eyes held hers made her feel unsettled. 

_Way of the arrow_ , she repeated in her mind, tightening the grip on her bow. She felt Tomriel’s hands remove from her shoulders and she felt more relaxed.

Just as she was about to release the arrow, a raven flew awfully close to her shoulder and caused her to flinch; the arrow went flying into the bark of a nearby tree. The wolf that she was eyeing scurried off further into the woods, escaping its demise. 

“That was disappointing,” Tomriel said teasingly, retrieving his bow from her hands, “that would’ve made a great pelt to sell in the market.” 

Ereli pouted slightly, wiping her sweaty palms on her leggings. “It was just staring me right in the eyes! Didn’t you see that? It was like it knew what I was trying to do and was attempting to dissuade me!” 

Tomriel laughed this time, shaking his head. “This is why you’re the Keeper’s First and not the amazing, formidable huntmaster that I am.” 

She shot him a playful glare, but she agreed with him. It was Ereli’s idea to venture out on a hunt. She was always interested in the stories Tomriel exchanged with the other hunters at the hearth, and was fascinated by the excitement and the thrill they expressed. As the First, her duties were mainly stationed at the camp, and not beyond the perimeter. So the little journeying she yearned for was found in the stories of the Lavellan camp’s scouts or hunters. 

Ereli Lavellan was a young woman that some of the other clan elves would say “was a wanderer with a bright-eyed, child-like curious streak that often causes her trouble.” With hair as white as snow contrasting with her tan skin that hailed from the southern lands, she definitely stood out. Some say it’s her unknown background that makes Ereli so curious and unique; always searching for answers to questions that her kin hadn’t thought to ask. Keeper Deshanna says that as a child, Ereli’s hands were always outstretched to the stars, grabbing at the constellations. 

However, at the moment she had her arms crossed, with a nose playfully stuck in the air at her friend. “Cockiness doesn’t look good on you, Tom. Now I understand why no girl from camp wants to be your lover.” 

To Ereli, it was indeed surprising that her childhood friend hadn’t found a proper mate yet, seeing as how he was one the best hunters of the camp. Although as pale as he was, he had long, blonde hair that all the girls from camp envied. He never took care of it as he should, often tying it in a messy, pulled back fashion for convenience. He had always been like that though, even as children. Too focused on the hunt or other adventures to take care of himself. 

Tomriel chuckled somewhat awkwardly and coughed into his palm, “We should head back to camp. Keeper Istimaethoriel doesn’t like for us to stay beyond the perimeters for too long.” 

It was starting to become dusk, and around that time was when Keeper Deshanna got nervous about the clan members staying out beyond the perimeter. Especially with her First, as close as they were. 

Eventually they neared their camp, and spotted the maroon tents that came into sight through the trees. Their camp was in an unclaimed valley of a mountainous region in the Free Marches. As long as she could remember, she viewed the mountains as a protective cradle from outside dangers, especially the Templars. But now, all she could think of as she looked at her camp was how isolated they were, hiding away from civilization in the name of caution. Ever since tensions between mages and templars worsened, they strayed away from humans for the time being.

As Ereli and Tomriel approached the camp, they noticed a small congregation around Keeper Deshanna’s private tent. There was a heavy atmosphere in the conversation, with Keeper Deshanna in the middle, a serious expression on her face. 

“What is going on?” Ereli asked as they got closer. Voices were becoming more distinct as they neared, a tone of worry apparent in them: 

“-My daughter was one of your spies sent to investigate, and she hasn’t come back!”

“There are some saying that it was a trap, she possibly got caught in the middle-” 

“It’s been over two weeks now! Reports were supposed to come in. My brother has been silent!” 

Keeper Deshanna’s voice raised, “Please, my brothers and sisters. I understand your concern for your family, and I am investigating their silence as soon at is safe enough to do so at dawn. I must ask you to be calm, for I am putting all of my efforts into reassuring your relatives’ safe return.” 

After a few more comforting words, the congregation departed begrudgingly back to their tents. Keeper Deshanna visibly exhaled in exhaustion, a hand massaging her right temple. 

Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel usually remained calm in situations such as these, but there was something about this particular circumstance that made her visibly stressed; an emotion that she’d normally never allow herself to express in front of their clan members. 

Ereli approached her with Tomriel following behind, both now concerned. Ereli placed a hand on her mentor’s shoulder, “Deshanna? What happened?” 

“Ah, Ereli. Tomriel. An urgent problem has arisen regarding the spies I sent out weeks ago.” 

Tomriel chimed in this time. “At the Conclave?”

Keeper Deshanna nodded, gesturing them into her private tent. Ereli figured she wanted to have this conversation elsewhere, as to not stir up the clan again. 

Inside her tent along with her cot and personal assets, was a table with a weathered map of Thedas on top. Keeper Deshanna pointed at the map, particularly an area called the ‘Frostback Basin’ in the country of Fereldan. A strategic pin was pressed into an area called the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

“This is where the peace talks were held. Or the Conclave, as it were. I sent a few of my spies to investigate the determination of these talks. The journey from Wycome to there would have to be about a week’s worth. However-” 

“-It’s been three weeks now.” Tomriel finished, concern in his voice. 

The Keeper nodded, her gray eyes focused. “Yes. At most, I’ve accounted for a week and a half’s journey there because of the Mage-Templar war. However since both sides have been ordered to withdraw until a decision has been made, there shouldn’t have been much resistance on their return save for a few passionate stragglers. Of course, things don’t always go as they should.”

“How do you plan on investigating this, Deshanna?” Ereli’s gaze lingered on the map, noting all of the scout pins were scattered across the map, yet none that returned to Wycome.

“That’s where I am troubled. A lot of our scouts are spread thin across Orlais and Fereldan at the moment, or missing. We have no one left to send to investigate.” 

She agreed. The Lavellan camp was not that big. Although it has expanded since they’ve lingered in Wycome for some years, it was still nothing compared to a lot of other spy networks of course.

”I’m afraid that this will take some time. Our only solution is to wait for some scouts to possibly come back. And if not, then we have been compromised and need to depart from Wycome.” 

Ereli’s mind started racing. What if she volunteered to go? She was the Keeper’s apprentice, a properly trained mage that proved to be difficult to match in challenge. Or at least, within her camp. But this could be an opportunity to grow and expand her knowledge on scouting, and her own personal skills. She always yearned to go see the world, but not under these circumstances. But as the First, there are responsibilities expected of her that she must uphold. And she felt that this was one of them. 

There was a short moment of silence before Ereli stepped forward and touched Keeper Deshanna’s arm. 

“I’ll go, Deshi.” 

The Keeper’s face was normally very warm and welcoming, however at this moment it was not the case. Her dark eyebrows were raised and she had a taken back expression; she shook her head in surprise. Almost reminiscent of a concerned mother, she said, “Excuse me?” 

“Please, Deshi. It makes sense. I am your First, and this could be my test to prove I am worthy of being your apprentice and a leader.” 

“Absolutely not. You are not yet prepared to travel days, much less weeks across Thedas by yourself. And with this unknown danger that’s befallen our scouts? If that happened to you…” 

“But Deshi!” 

“Keeper Istimaethoriel, may I speak freely?” Tomriel asked politely, diffusing the situation with his calm voice. 

Keeper Deshanna, flustered, regarded the huntmaster. “What is it, Tomriel?” 

“What if I accompanied Ereli on this journey? I know I’m not the best fighter in the camp, but I know how to stick an arrow in a hide if the goddess Andruil can say anything about it. And I’ve scouted as far as the Southern border of the Free Marches. I know routes to Fereldan through my masters.” 

Ereli offered her friend a small smile. Tomriel was always so supportive of her, even with her outlandish ideas. He’d make a perfect companion and surely she’d feel more comfortable with him along.

The Keeper considered this for a long stretch of silence, looking between Ereli and Tomriel. Ereli could see the debate of her thoughts on Deshanna’s face, from consideration to worry, back to consideration, then to a solemn expression of acceptance accompanied with a heavy sigh. 

“So be it. Be ready at dawn, and meet me at the riverbank before you leave to go over protocols.” 

Tomriel bowed and departed from the Keeper’s tent, and before Ereli could leave as well, Deshanna grasped at her wrist, “If you do change your mind, I will not blame you, da’len. You are too valuable to lose.” 

“I’m not changing my mind.”


End file.
